ESV Bible

Resurrection

Toward the finale of The Return of the King, after Frodo and Samwise have cast the evil ring into the molten core of Mount Doom, an exhausted Sam, recovering from his ordeal, awakes to the face of Gandalf.

“Gandalf! I thought you were dead! But then I thought I was dead myself. Is everything sad going to come untrue? What’s happened to the world?”

A great Shadow has departed,” said Gandalf, and then he laughed and the sound was like music, or like water in a parched land; and as he listened the thought came to Sam that he had not heard laughter, the pure sound of merriment, for days upon days without count.”

Yesterday, I attended the visitation of an old neighbor from an old neighborhood, the one in which I experienced some of the sweetest days of my life. Joe had suffered through dementia for years, and the family of six boys with whom we played football in our backyards felt a sense of relief for their dad. Shirley, his wife, did too. She said it was a blessing that all this happened during Holy Week. Even in that sad time, there remained hope that everything sad is going to come untrue.

The passion of Jesus marks the high, holy days of the Christian Church. And they are holy because they mark the beginning of the answer asked by a beloved fictional character.

In the cross of Jesus, everything sad begins its journey toward untruth. The lie of who we were in sin is replaced by the truth of who we are in Christ. The great shadow over us has been removed.

In the resurrection of Jesus, sadness takes a further step toward being untrue. Death no longer holds the victory. Christ triumphed over it. When we are in Christ, so will we be victorious. And there will be no second death.

In the ascension of Jesus, sadness declines yet again, as the promise is of Christ’s return. In that return, we understand that sadness will be swallowed up in truth, and that tear-filled eyes will no longer be so, that no one will want for anything, and that all our crushed dreams will live again.

And sadness will be untrue forever.

In this week of recalling Jesus’ betrayal, death, and resurrection, we understand that the world has changed, because Jesus made it so.

Jesus can change your world, if you lay aside your life and let Him give you His. All you have to do is ask Him.

In the last week, I’ve seen more talk than usual about what’s right and wrong with the contemporary Church in America and the way we Americans worship…or don’t. Some of this may be in response to Donald Miller’s confession last week that he didn’t attend church regularly (see my response “Donald Miller and the Anti-Church“). A quick pass through the Interwebs reveals more comments on Church worship and how it’s not right. I suspect some of that is in response to Miller too.

And if I go on Facebook, I read what’s wrong with our government. I read what’s wrong with entertainment. I read what’s wrong with kids today. I read what’s wrong with the elderly.

Well, maybe not so much that last one.

Nonetheless, there’s a whole lot of wrong out there.

My first thought is that each of us needs to drill this truth into our heads:

This life is not about me.

What if every person in the United States woke up tomorrow and said to himself or herself, This life is not about me ? And what if that thought echoed through our heads the entire day and affected everything we do?

I can’t help but think everything would be changed for the better. Maybe not overnight, but soon enough.

Human self-centeredness and pride is at the root of so much that is wrong in our country, government, schools, churches, and homes. Most of the egregious wrong that happens in the world is because someone, somewhere is looking out solely for number one. What’s in it for me? has replaced E Pluribus Unum as the motto of the United States of America. We just don’t want to admit it because it looks bad. And it looks bad because there is still that “thing” deep down inside us that considers looking out for number one wrong—whenever someone else lives that way.

Oh my.

The funny thing is, This life is not about me is at the heart of the Christian faith. Imagine if Jesus had said to the Father, “Taking on the sins of the world and dying on a cross—you know, I’m not really into doing that.” Fact is, He didn’t want to do that. But He did it anyway.

By its very nature, the cross is hard to bear. No one said it wouldn’t be.

The cross hurts? No, it downright kills. But what spring from that death is life itself

That cross is at the heart of Christianity. There’s a cross for each person who follows Jesus. The cross epitomizes This life is not about me.

If we want to fix everything that is wrong with everything, we have to start at the cross. We pick it up daily and walk in its shadow.

With passion week arriving soon, we will begin to experience the high holy days of the Christian Church. We will also experience the dividing lines along which most Christian churches fall.

You see, you can tell a great deal about a church by what aspect of those days it glorifies: Christ’s earthly ministry, His cross, His resurrection, or Pentecost.

Churches that ally themselves most with the earthly ministry identify with Christ’s love for the weak and broken people of the world and His relentless service to them.

Churches that ally themselves most with the cross identify with a lost individual’s status as a sinner, Christ’s sufferings on our behalf, and the wondrous freedom from sin purchased by Him.

Churches that ally themselves most with the resurrection identify with redemption, the new birth, and an eternity spent with God in heaven.

Churches that ally themselves most with Pentecost identify with the empowering of the new Church by the Holy Spirit to fearlessly go forth as saints to spread the Kingdom with signs and wonders accompanying.

I’ve see a lot of churches in America, but I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen the perfect church—one that ably allies itself with all four of the above in balance. I don’t know why that is so hard, and yet it is. We seem to like our one or two identifications, and that is about all we can manage.